


What the Mark Demands

by shealynn88



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comeplay, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Dirty Talk, M/M, Overstimulation, PWP, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shealynn88/pseuds/shealynn88
Summary: Fill for this prompt for the SPN Masquerade Round #6:Sam and Dean use sex as a way to keep the Mark sated. And when things get bad they just fuck like crazy all over the place and it ends with Dean fucking into an exhausted Sam who is laying on his stomach and just taking it because he's so worn out. And Dean hasn't stopped talking the whole time and all the dirty talk just makes Sam whimper and beg for more even though he's already overstimulated.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 22
Kudos: 256





	What the Mark Demands

It’s been 3 days, 4 hours and 32 minutes since Dean’s killed something. 

Not that he’s counting.

Every nerve in his body is on fire. He’s tried to give Sam a break, he knows he’s rough when the Mark heats up. But if he waits too much longer, he won’t have control anymore.

He cracks two beers and heads for the library. 

“Hey, Sammy,” he says, and it’s supposed to be light, but even his voice is strained and dark.

Sam looks up from his book and his brow furrows. “Dean, Jesus, you should have said something!” He gets up and walks over, looking concerned.

The way Sam towers over him makes the Mark burn and Dean itches to lash out. He hands Sam a beer and then backs up against the wall, lets Sam follow and then kicks the back of his knee as gently as the Mark will let him.

Sam goes down with a soft sound and takes a long draw off his bottle before he sets it aside to go to work. “You should have told me, we could have started earlier,” Sam says softly, unbuttoning Dean’s pants and pulling the zipper down.

Dean grabs his hair with one hand and shoves his cock into Sam’s cold mouth. “ _Fuck_ ,” he manages. “Fuck, your goddamn mouth, Sammy. Just made to be fucked like this, weren’t you?” It tumbles out like this when the Mark is strong. 

He means every word of it - Sam takes him over, makes him _burn_ \- always has, he just used to be better at keeping his mouth shut. Now he moves with abandon, feels Sam choke around his cock and nearly forgets to ease up. 

Sam never pushes him away. His mouth is hot, now. His tongue moves against Dean like a goddamn _machine_ \- slow drags, hot pressure, enough that Dean’s just about ready to come down his throat.

Dean shoves him away and he ends up on his elbows. “Finish your beer,” Dean rasps, and he never breaks eye contact as Sam swallows, and swallows, and swallows and then takes a deep shuddering breath.

It’s that breath, Dean thinks, that does it. That breaks him. He strides forward, arm burning, jaw clenched, he wants _blood_ but this will do - Sam, under his control, taking whatever the Mark doles out.

He flips and folds Sam over and Sam goes without protest, just a few small whines that satisfy the Mark in some small way as Dean unbuttons Sam’s jeans and pulls them down.

Sam wears a plug, now, and Dean yanks it out and throws it over his shoulder. There’s a part of him that’s desperately glad he’s not going to hurt Sam the way the Mark wants. The rest of him rages as he shoves his cock as deep as he can. Sam clamps down and yelps in pain before they both get a better handle on themselves.

“Easy,” Dean demands, grabbing Sam’s hips and shoving his body forward, only to haul him back again, filling him up. There’s some lube there, probably not enough. The Mark thrums with the pleasure of a small victory as he fucks Sam with abandon, shoving inside him until he whines. 

“There you go, baby brother. That’s what you need, isn’t it? Just need my fat cock, don’t you? God, you’re such a gorgeous little cockslut for me. Ready all the time, aren’t you? Every single minute, just begging for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Oh, _fuck_ , Dean,” Sam manages. “Yes, _please_ , yes.”

_Conquest._

Dean comes hard, _deep_ , stays there while Sam seizes around him, panting his way through his orgasm, and then Dean drags him over to the table, bends him over and slides into him again. The Mark isn’t big on refractory times. The Mark doesn’t believe in moderation. It’s all or nothing right now. Blood or come.

Dean shoves inside, snarling. “Fuck, Sam, got you all wet in there for me, don’t I? Gonna have you dripping come for me.” He takes a few minutes after he comes to shove his fingers inside and plug Sam’s gaping hole, keep that precious come inside him. There’s something about it the Mark likes, he thinks - the parallel, maybe - the way the Mark has laid a claim on him, the way he lays a claim on Sam…

Or maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’s always wanted this. Maybe he’s always wanted Sam at his beck and call, filled with his come, ass in the air.

Both ideas are disturbing.

And then it’s time, again - the Mark waits for no man, it _demands_ , and Dean folds, and Sam submits. 

This time it’s the map table. 

The next time Dean gets them to him room, dragging Sam behind him by one wrist, Sam kicking off his jeans as he stumbles behind. Then Dean shoves Sam’s head down into the sheets and fucks him again, deep and rough, and Sam keens and begs until all Dean can hear is his name in Sam’s broken voice as Sam clenches around him and Dean comes again.

Next time it’s on the bed, almost normal - Sam’s knees around his ears, Dean deep inside him and barely pulling out this time. The focus isn’t movement, it’s ownership - he wants to fill Sam up further, harder, slicker. He grinds against Sam, watches his brother’s face as it goes from pain, to open mouthed panting, to ecstasy and back again. “Oh, Sammy, look how you take it. What a good little fucktoy you are, baby. Meant for my cock, weren’t you? Fuck, look at you. Yeah, take that big cock, take it like a good boy, hmm?” 

“Ahh, Dean!” Sam throws his head back as he comes all over his filthy stomach, catching the edge of his white undershirt.

Dean shudders through another intense orgasm and then flips Sam over to go again. Sam is panting, his ass is red where Dean can’t stop fucking him. It’s been hours, now, basically non-stop, and Dean knows he needs to be careful but the Mark is still driving him, still pushing and demanding and it’s so hard to stop because underneath it all Dean wants it, too. Just in case it never happens again, he needs to be inside Sam as long as he possibly can, as often as possible.

He’s careful this time, slides in slowly and moves gently, grabbing Sam’s shoulder to help with that last, deep grind. “Oh, Sammy,” he sighs. “So perfect, feel so good, what a hot, sweet little hole, baby, _God_ , i just can’t…” 

Sam sobs and shivers as he comes, shoving his exhausted body back on Dean’s cock, and maybe the desperation isn’t all on Dean’s side - all on the Mark.

He fucks Sam twice more before he feels somewhat normal - each time gentler than the next, and even though Sam is flat with exhaustion, soaked with sweat and come, he still whines and begs with each thrust.

Dean leans forward, fucks slowly as he breathes against his brother’s ear. “You look so good like this, Sammy. So beautiful when you’re mine. Love when I’m inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Dean, don’t stop, please, don’t… _don’t_ …”

“I won’t. You know I won’t.” He kisses the tip of Sam’s ear, presses kisses into his sweat-soaked hair. “You’re gonna feel this for days, and then I’ll have to fuck you again, won’t I?”

Sam comes with a cry, pained and endless, and Dean shoves inside him, rough again for the last few thrusts until he spills his last load and then slumps over Sam’s back.

He stays inside until he softens completely, and then there’s a slow rush of his own come over Sam’s ass and thighs.

Dean rubs it in with gentle strokes and kisses Sam’s hair again.

 _Mine_ , he thinks, and the Mark hums it’s approval.


End file.
